Jasmine placed her hand on Cameron’s outstretched palm and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He continued to hold her hand as he swiped a card on a door with a sign indicating residents and employees only.
She followed him down a hallway to an elevator. He swiped his card again, and the doors opened. This time instead of using the keycard, Cameron inserted a key into the slot for the fifth floor and the doors closed. “Why do you live in a hotel?” She had to say something, anything to break the tension between them.
“Convenience. If I had a house I would have to hire a cook and housekeeper, landscaper, and someone to make repairs. With the hotel if I want something to eat all I have to do is call room service. Or if something needs repairing, then it’s maintenance. There’s a laundry service on the premises, and if I have to entertain there are two lounges and several private rooms on the lobby level.”
“Oh, I see.”
A hint of a smile tilted the corners of Cameron’s mouth. “Do you really?”
“There’s no need to be condescending, Cameron.”
“Was I?”
“Yes.”
He angled his head, his smile in place. “I’m sorry.”
She rolled her eyes. “Apology accepted.”
The doors opened and Cameron stepped aside to let her exit the elevator. Instead of stepping out into a hall like in most hotels she found herself inside a living room with period pieces she recognized as a Louis XVI screen and nineteenth-century Barbedienne urns that served as lamps. Jasmine walked over and ran her fingertips over a velvet-covered Knole-style sofa. She strolled around the room, mentally cataloguing the exquisite furnishings that included a Louis XVbergèrechair that would never go out of style.
Turning, she saw Cameron smiling at her. “Are these antiques or reproductions?”
“I’ve been told they are the real deal.”
“Have they been appraised?”
“Yes.”
“Do they belong to you or the owner of the hotel?”
“They were here when I moved in.”
Jasmine caressed the silk fabric on the chair. “Everything is beautiful.”
Cameron emptied his pockets and left the contents on a side table. “I’m glad you like it. I’m going to call room service because you need to eat.”
She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry I spoiled your brunch.”
“Don’t worry about it, darling. I’m not going to starve if I miss a meal. You, on the other hand, need food.”
“What are you going to order?”
“Broiled chicken without the skin, spinach, and sweet potatoes.”
“Is that for me or us?”
“It’s for us.”
Jasmine didn’t have the energy to argue with him that she would’ve preferred looking at a menu to make her selections. “Do you have mouthwash?”
“Yes. The bathroom is through the dining room and on the right.”
* * *
Cameron picked up the hotel phone and placed his order with the kitchen staff. When Jasmine said she was pregnant he didn’t want to believe it; however, he knew for certain the baby she carried was his. He’d been with enough women to know Jasmine hadn’t been sexually active for a while, and the condoms were his not hers, so he couldn’t accuse her of using him to deliberately get pregnant. And judging from her reaction when the doctor told her she was going to be a mother, it was apparent the news had shocked her. But he wanted to know whether she planned to keep the baby. After all, she had a lot to consider: age, her plan to relocate, and to begin another career.
Jasmine emerged from the bathroom hair neatly brushed and pulled into a ponytail. “We need to talk before the food gets here.”
